


Capitulation

by telperion_15



Series: Dominance [3]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Alpha Males, Bathroom Sex, Dominance, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-17
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:18:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The inevitable conclusion...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capitulation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fredbassett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/gifts).



> Originally written as a birthday fic for fredbassett.

Lester rearranged his somewhat crumpled suit until he looked somewhat more like the manager of a top-secret government project, and somewhat less like a man who had just been given a hand-job by one of his subordinates. Then, apparently satisfied that he was as tidy as he was going to get at this juncture, he glared at Ryan.

Ryan, however, wasn’t fooled in the slightest. Lester glared/scowled/sneered from force of habit. In fact, if Ryan hadn’t just seen the evidence to the contrary with his own eyes, he would have bet good money that they were the only facial expressions the civil servant possessed.

But right at this moment, Ryan didn’t believe in any way the poisonous stare that Lester was sending in his direction. So he stared calmly back, allowing just a hint of a smirk to play around his lips, something he could see was rattling Lester a lot more than the man wanted to admit.

But Lester hadn’t reached the dizzying heights of the Home Office without displaying a remarkable talent for hiding his emotions. In fact, Ryan suspected that only _he_ would be able to tell that Lester wasn’t quite as calm as the image he was currently projecting. And that was possibly only because he knew he was the cause of Lester’s unrest. Anyone else would probably see the same emotionless automaton of a civil servant that they always saw.

“I think,” said Lester, in admirably level voice, “that you’d better go and take that shower now, Captain. I’m beginning to find the sight of you rather offensive to the eye.”

“Yes, sir. Whatever you say, sir. Right away, sir.”

_I give him twenty minutes_.

*   *   *   *   *

He lasted thirty-three minutes. Ryan was impressed.

Having offered up silent thanks to whoever had decided a private Home Office gym complete with showers was a good idea, Ryan had taken full advantage of the hot water and array of shower products to rid himself of the evidence of the forest he had spent the best part of the last two days running around in. Much as he hated to admit it, Lester had been right – he hadn’t been very pretty to look at. Hadn’t smelt too good, either.

But when his soldier’s sixth-sense suddenly told him he had showered for long enough, he shut off the water, and emerged in a cloud of steam to find Lester leaning against the bank of sinks opposite, the customary sneer firmly in place.

“There is mud on my suit,” he said without preamble.

“Oh.” Ryan’s eyes flicked downwards, and then back up again. “That’s a shame.” Sounding totally unrepentant.

“Do you know how much this suit cost, Captain?”

“To be honest, sir, I don’t really care.” Ryan took one step, two steps away from the shower, until he was pressed up against Lester, water dripping off his body and on to the designer fabric of the presumably _very_ expensive suit. “Actually, to be _brutally_ honest, I’d rather the suit wasn’t here at all.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Captain, but the suit will be staying.”

“Does that mean you’ll be staying as well?”

Lester looked annoyed at having his words twisted around on him, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it, because Ryan kissed him, adding several new creases to the mud and water marring his suit. With only a towel wrapped round his waist, Ryan couldn’t hide his erection – not that he particularly wanted to. He was getting a little tired of the game, and was rapidly deciding that it was time to end it.

Lester, however, didn’t appear to agree. Eventually, they both surfaced for air, and Ryan found himself on the receiving end of a full-blown glare.

“You’re treading a very fine line here, Captain.”

“Well, in that case, I think it’s about time I crossed it, sir.”

Taking a firmer grip on Lester’s suit, Ryan yanked him forward and then shoved him round until he was facing the mirrors above the sinks. From his position behind Lester, Ryan eyed their reflection – slightly blurred by the condensation – and smirked at the combined irritation and arousal on Lester’s face.

“Captain…”

“Shut the fuck up.  _Sir_.”

And for once – probably the only time ever – Lester did as he was told. He pressed his lips together and dropped his head slightly, an almost-sign of surrender.

Taking just one second to savour the triumph, Ryan shoved his hands up under Lester’s jacket and pulled his shirt free from his trousers. Lester tensed as Ryan’s fingertips came into contact with his skin, but Ryan thought that this time it might be for reasons other than his control-freak nature.

Thrusting his hand higher, Ryan pinched one of Lester’s nipples. And that was _definitely_ a hiss of pleasure, accompanied by one from Ryan’s own lips as Lester jerked back against him.

The suit was really getting in the way now, and suddenly Ryan stepped backwards slightly, dragging his hands out from under the shirt, and pulling both it and the jacket from Lester’s shoulders. Buttons popped in an entirely clichéd manner, and Lester’s sigh of annoyance only encouraged Ryan to dump the garments straight into the closest puddle on the floor, before pushing forward against Lester again with enough force that the other man had to put a hand against the mirror to steady himself, his palm sliding in the moisture.

Lester’s skin was pale and smooth – a function of spending one’s life indoors behind a desk, Ryan supposed. But he was surprised to see that there was muscle too, and even the odd scar. Clearly Lester hadn’t spent his _whole_ life in an office, and he appeared to take the trouble to keep himself in shape. He wasn’t bulky like Ryan, but he wasn’t some skinny wimp either. Ryan was rapidly revising his opinions of this man.

That didn’t mean he was going to go easy on him, however. Unwinding the towel from around his waist and dropping it in the same puddle as the jacket and shirt, Ryan leaned more firmly against Lester, draping himself across the other man’s back, and making sure that Lester could feel his erection against his still fabric-clad arse.

“Do you know what I’m going to do now, sir?”

“What?” Half demanding, half pleading.

“I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to let you come.”

“I don’t beg.” Said with an impressive amount of dignity, considering the circumstances.

“Today you will.”

Trousers were yanked down to reveal more pale skin, and Lester gasped – although he tried to hide it – as Ryan’s cock nestled in the crack of his arse.

Then came the problem. Ryan tutted in annoyance. He would have to move away. But he wasn’t sure if he could trust Lester not to run if he gave him that much freedom, even if it was only for a few seconds.

But the there was no help for it. Pulling Lester’s head back sharply, he growled in his ear. “Don’t. Move.” Then he stepped back, hurrying into the shower cubicle and returning quickly with a bottle of shower gel.

Lester hadn’t moved. He was still bent over the sinks, legs slightly spread, arse waiting, hand on the mirror. Ryan grinned.

_The gentleman doth protest too much, methinks. He wants this. He’s just trying to convince himself that he doesn’t._

Knowing Lester was watching him in the mirror, Ryan made a show of prowling up behind him, a feral grin firmly in place as he shook the bottle of shower gel lazily to dislodge the contents. Placing a hand in the small of Lester’s back, he felt the other man shiver minutely, and then still again.

“Tell me you want it.”

Lester remained resolutely silent.

Ryan mock-sighed, and then flipped open the bottle. The shower gel was scentless, and a translucent white colour, for which Ryan was thankful. He didn’t think that Lester would tolerate something that was pink and smelled of flowers – that might be the straw that broke the civil servant’s back, as it were.

Squeezing a generous amount on to his fingers, Ryan risked another glance at Lester’s reflection. Lester was looking at him with a mixture of resistance and avidity in his eyes, clearly not trusting himself to speak in case he said something to incriminate himself.

Ryan’s grin widened, and he ran a hand across Lester’s back again, feeling the resulting tiny shudder suddenly develop into a convulsion as Ryan abruptly put one of his slick fingers to good use.

“Fuck, Ryan…” The words had obviously slipped out before Lester could stop them, and a scowl followed quickly on their heels as Ryan chuckled.

“All in good time, sir. And I do believe that’s the first time you’ve ever forgotten to use my title.”

The scowl deepened, and then dissolved into something much more…interesting as Ryan shoved his finger deeper, finding the spot that would give Lester something else to think about, whether he wanted to or not.

A strangled moan dropped from Lester’s lips, and Ryan ticked off another small triumph. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted Lester to let go, to admit that he couldn’t be in control all the time. It was for his own good, really.

Ryan added another finger – taking his time, not to be gentle, but to drive Lester to distraction. He knew Lester would be able to feel Ryan’s cock against his hip – something else that would hopefully dismantle the man’s resolve piece by piece.

Eventually, however, Ryan knew he couldn’t wait any longer. His own control was starting to slip, just a little. As a soldier, he had become good at ignoring the insistent demands of his body. But even he had his limits. And this wasn’t _all_ about Lester, after all.

Dragging his fingers away from Lester’s arse, Ryan quickly slicked his cock. Then he paused, allowing Lester two twitchy seconds of anticipation before driving into him with all the intent that his fingers had lacked.

Lester expelled his breath in a loud gasp, his hand finally slipping off the mirror to land with a thud on the surface next to one of the sinks.

“You’re not going to give me much time to beg if you carry on like that, Captain.”

And Ryan couldn’t decide if that was a sign of imminent capitulation, or if it was just Lester’s inability to keep his snarkiness at bay for more than five minutes.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, sir,” he replied carefully.

He started a slow rhythm, with no energy behind it – just a drag and push, backwards and forwards, occasionally grazing Lester’s prostate, just enough to keep him interested, keep him on edge. His hands were holding on to Lester’s hips, and he wouldn’t allow either of them to go anywhere near Lester’s cock.

_Slide…push…slide…push…_  There were no words now. Ryan wasn’t going to say anything that would give Lester the chance to fight back, give him something on which to rebuild some form of control. He was just going stay quiet, and drive the man crazy with need until he tipped over the edge.

He could hear Lester’s breath becoming progressively harsher and more jerky. But the man had an admirable talent for refusing to do something he didn’t want to do. Ryan could see in the mirror that Lester’s lips were pressed tightly together, almost as if he was trying to lock any stray words inside.

Ryan knew he couldn’t keep this up all day. Not even to break Lester. It was time to change tactics slightly.

He altered his angle fractionally, putting the tiniest bit more pressure on that sweet spot on each pass, something that Ryan knew would send skitterings of pleasure across Lester’s skin – enough to make him want more. But he still didn’t speed up, and he still didn’t touch Lester’s cock. And with the way he was pressed against the sink unit, Lester couldn’t touch it himself either.

It started as a further increase in Lester’s breathing rate – he was almost panting now. Then Ryan noticed the shivers in Lester’s arms, where he was bracing himself against the sinks. And as soon as he noticed that, he became aware of the same shivers in Lester’s thighs every time their skin touched.

It was time to play his final card. Thus far, Lester had been resolutely staring at the sinks, keeping his eyes down and away from their reflection. But when Ryan abruptly reached up and grabbed a handful of hair, pulling his head back, he no choice but to meet Ryan’s eye in the mirror.

Ryan poured every little bit of want and lust, every filthy thought in his head, into his gaze, forcing it on to Lester as he sped up his pace just slightly. Just enough.

_One…two…three…four…_

“Fuck, Ryan, please… _please_ …”

Ryan raised an eyebrow, allowing the tiniest of triumphant smirks to flicker around his lips. “You see? All you had to do was ask nicely.”

“Fuck you.” Trying to be snarky, but the desperation, the pleading, was still there under the surface.

It didn’t take long, after that. A few deep thrusts, a hand wrapped around his cock, and Lester was moaning long and low, his shudders dragging Ryan’s own orgasm out of him until they were both gasping, their breath fogging the mirror again, both of them slumped forward over the sinks.

Predictably, it was Lester who moved first, squirming under Ryan’s weight until Ryan took pity on him and shifted to the side, both of them hissing at the sensation of cock slipping from arse. Lester dragged his trousers back up over his hips, and then looked in dismay at the pile of wet clothing on the floor.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” he demanded, holding up his dripping shirt by the collar.

“Enter a wet t-shirt competition?” Ryan replied.

“Very funny. I have an image to maintain, you know. And that doesn’t include wandering around my place of work with no shirt on.”

“So don’t go wandering around.” Lazily, Ryan reached out and hooked a finger through one of Lester’s belt-loops, pulling him close. Lester resisted slightly, which only made Ryan tug harder, his lips twitching into a smile.

_Here we go again._


End file.
